


Roses Are Sweet

by HappyStony



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Flowers, High School, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot, Roses, Teenagers, but they're both like 18, idk why i even wrote this, porn wothout plot, so not underage?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 17:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14720837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyStony/pseuds/HappyStony
Summary: Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wonders if this is why Tony bothered talking to the skinny loser from freshman year. Why he bothered forcing himself into Steve's small group of friends at least twice a week. Why he bothered supporting him when he first wanted to try out for sports, when no one else believed in him. He wonders if this is why Tony started to talk to him less this year, their last year, when Steve suddenly grew, suddenly was more than just a loser, and suddenly had girls all over him.Has Tony always liked him?Or:Tony basically wants Steve to finger a flower and *somehow* they end up doing some naughty things.





	Roses Are Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Oops this is embarrassing. Okay, look, I'm not saying that I've ever done this, alright? Idk I just thought that it'd be cool to write about? Anyways, here's some semi-shameless porn that I wrote in like four hours.

They both stumble into Tony's room, not exactly drunk, but definitely not sober. Tony's laughing for whatever reason, chuckling as he locks the door behind him. Steve grabs the flowers from his hands, watching Tony with amusement as the boy falls face first onto his bed.

"That was so fucking embarrassing!" Tony yells into the mattress, his voice muffled but surprisingly still understandable.

"What? The roses?" Steve asks, smelling them as he sits next to Tony.

"No," Tony says sarcastically, lifting his head to glare at Steve. "Of course! God, I have sex with her once and she thinks we're a couple."

Steve ponders, eyes focused on the roses. He smiles to himself, plucking one out from the bouquet.

"I don't know why it's embarrassing. It's sweet."

"Steve," Tony says seriously, sitting up, his left leg folded and hand over his knee, leaning toward Steve. He can smell the alcohol on him, but it isn't strong. They both are probably almost completely sober by now, but that's Tony's fault. They just _had_ to leave the party early. "You weren't the one flirting with Gabriella Romero and coming _this_ fucking close to making out with her, only to have Chloe come up and shove a bouquet of roses at your face and declare her undying love for you."

"She was drunk," Steve sympathizes, then adds: "And maybe this should be a lesson. Ever heard of, "keep it in your pants"?"

"Ever heard of, "mind your damn business"?" Tony mocks, making a face. He falls back down again, but this time he's facing the ceiling.

Steve sets the roses down, sighing. He keeps the one in his hand, lifting it to his nose so that he can smell it again. Tony snorts, ruining the moment.

"Shit," Tony croaks out, laughing at himself. Steve raises an eyebrow.

Tony looks at him, smiling. It's the type of smile that makes Steve worried; the smile that says that he has a story, a story he isn't the least bit ashamed of.

"You're a virgin, right?"

Steve rolls his eyes, hard. He turns fully away from Tony, letting the rose hang between his legs. Tony sits up, setting both feet down onto the floor, scooting closer to set a hand on Steve's shoulder.

"No, stop, no. Okay, fine. That was stupid. It's just—" Tony laughs again, taking his hand off Steve so that he can cover his mouth. Steve turns back toward him, but his eyes are narrowed, not in the mood for jokes. "I—uh. You wanna know how it feels to touch a girl?"

Steve's face scrunches, ready to scoff and blow Tony off.

"No—the rose. Really. It's not exactly the same, but, look, I tried it once. It's fucking hot as hell."

"You fingered a _flower_?" Steve asks, repulsed and annoyed. Tony laughs again, leaning in to take Steve's hand, the one not holding the rose. Steve shakes him off, beginning to stand up.

"No, seriously, just try it. It's soft and moist a little. And it's tight. Just—here."

He pulls Steve back down, grabbing his hand again. Steve watches grudgingly, letting his friend guide his right hand towards the top of the rose.

"Feel in between the petals first," Tony mumbles. Steve looks at him, but Tony seems transfixed with Steve's fingers and the flower. Steve looks back down at his hand.

Tony's hand guide his own, letting one finger slip in between the outer petals. It feels soft, maybe warm, but mostly soft. Tony has his finger drag left and right, pressing inward, and then further down. It's weird as it gets tighter, nothing sexual, like Tony weirdly insists, but it feels a bit calming.

"Feel around," Tony says, his voice deep and serious. He lets go of Steve's hand, and Steve is left to figure it out on his own.

He pulls his finger out, circling around the top of the partially bloomed rose. He's never realized how soft the petals were.

"Start going towards the middle."

Steve does, and almost unconsciously, he dips his finger in. It's so soft, the slightest bit of pressure encompassing his pointer finger. He travels farther, and then he hits the bud.

He sighs, taking his finger out and looking at Tony, unsatisfied.

"What? Why'd you stop?"

"Tony—" he stops, shaking his head. "You're just weird."

"No," Tony says. "Really. You were just at the best part—"

Steve tries to stand again, not exactly to leave, since he's suppose to be staying for a sleepover, but to get away from Tony no doubt. He should probably get the small air mattress out so that he can get his bed ready.

Tony tugs at his shirt, and Steve turns to face him.

"Come on," Tony says, scooting further into his bed. He pats the spot next to him, and Steve's eyes rake up Tony's body without his permission. He rubs them, suddenly feeling exhausted. It's probably late.

"Seriously," Tony says, "Come on. I want you to believe me."

Knowing Tony probably won't let it go until he feels he's done his best, Steve concedes, climbing onto the bed next to Tony, the rose now heavy in his hand.

Tony scoots down a little, his head comfortable on his pillows.

"Alright, get on top of me."

" _What_?"

Tony rolls his eyes. "Fuckin' hell, Steve, I'm not asking for us to fuck. Just get on top of me."

"No," Steve says stubbornly.

Tony makes an exaggerated noise, a mix of a groan and an exasperated huff.

"What do you think is gonna happen?"

"Nothing," Steve says quickly. "Just—why do I need to be on top of you?"

"'Cause I'm the girl. Just get on top of me and close your eyes. I'm not gonna touch you."

"It's not that," Steve mumbles, relenting and carefully getting on top of Tony. "It's weird."

"Everything is weird to you," Tony says accusingly from underneath him. Steve keeps his knees too far apart, and his hips are probably too high, but he tries to keep as much distance between him and Tony as possible. The only thing near Tony at the moment are his forearms, which are right beside Tony's ears. "That's probably why you have no life."

"Shut up. Now what?"

"Ah, close your eyes. Remember, I'm not touching you, alright? And I'm not gonna make you touch me. Just don't freak out."

Steve closes his eyes. "Well now I wanna freak out."

Steve feels Tony's hand take his, the one with the rose, and guide it down in between them. His heartbeat increases, his face flushing when he realizes that Tony's placing the flower over his crotch.

Steve's eyes snap open.

"It's fine," Tony says. "Again, no touching. Just showing you something."

Steve hesitates, feeling weird. He's never done anything like this, and being this close to Tony leaves him way too flustered.

"Close your eyes. Pretend I'm a girl."

Steve listens again, just eager for this to be over already. He'll probably laugh with Tony about it tomorrow, both of them going to blame it on the alcohol, and hopefully never bring this up again.

He lets Tony's hand drag his own toward the flower, and when Steve grabs a hold of it, Tony lets go of him.

"Okay. Feel around a little, and then slowly slip your finger towards the middle again. You have to slip past the bud, and move around it. I always imagined that was the clit of a hot girl."

Steve follows the directions, feeling around the flower. He's seen pictures of naked women before, and a few videos, and he knows how women feel about that part of themselves being played with. He can't help but flush at the thought, his finger gently moving over the bud. He feels embarrassed, shame spreading across his chest, but he doesn't stop. He's aware of how red his face is getting, and how he's starting to breath a little faster, but he keeps going—hoping that if he lasts a few more minutes, that'll satisfy Tony enough for them to stop.

"And then move further down. You've gotta do it slowly."

Steve leans a little down, eyebrows furrowing as he forces out, "Kinda hard to imagine a girl with you talking."

He does it anyway, moving further down the bud, and then it gets tight. It feels a little moist now, but that's probably from his finger sweating, and his heart spikes up when Tony shifts, lifting his hips. He breathes out deeply, his head accidentally getting lower. He's suddenly aware that their faces must be close when Tony mumbles, right next to his ear, "It's tight and soft, huh?"

Steve nods, feeling around. He feels bad in a way, like he's violating the poor thing, but he pushes further, the pressure strangely arousing.

"She'd probably be shaking by now," Tony continues, his voice soft. Steve doesn't know if he got closer or Tony, because he can feel the boys lips touching his ear. He holds in a shudder. "They moan so softly sometimes. She'd have her legs so open for you, Steve; so wet."

Steve's throat goes dry, the dirty talk new to him. He doesn't know if he should stop now, but he stays still, feeling around the inside of the rose.

"I love it when they lift their hips up for me," Tony says, his hips rising a little. "They're, like asking for more. They squirm so much when they're turned on. You know how hot it is when someone wants you? Wants more from you?"

It's probably rhetorical, but Steve's eyes are closed so this could all be a wet dream, something he'll forget about it in the morning.

"No," Steve whispers, his voice hoarse. He's aware that he's breathing a little too hard, but this is Tony's game. He'll stop it soon, won't he?

"It makes you feel special," Tony continues, and then Steve can feel Tony's lips on the side of his neck, and with a bit of shame, Steve tilts it, just the slightest so that Tony doesn't think he's pulling away, but adjusting.

Tony gives him a proper kiss then, the noise of the lips parting and leaving his neck loud in the silent room, right next to the sound of Steve's beating heart. It's getting hot, too hot for Steve. His skin feels like it's on fire.

Tony continues to kiss around his neck, Steve letting him. He doesn't know why he's letting Tony do this; perhaps because it feels good, or maybe it's something deeper, something he's never been willing to admit.

Then Tony's tongue pokes out, licking a small stripe upwards. Steve shudders then, making a small, weak noise when Tony nips his skin, the feeling going straight towards his groin.

"Ah—okay," Steve breathes out, moving the rose and his hand away from Tony's crotch and towards the side of Tony's head again. He opens his eyes, blinking a couple times so that his eyes can adjust. He ignores the fact that Tony's face is red too, his nose flared and breathing in and out deeply. "Is that—is that it?"

There's a moment of silence, and then Tony says, "If you want it to be."

Steve stares at him, their faces too close. Tony's eyes flicker around Steve's face, his eyes obviously taking all of Steve in, like he's never seen him before. Tony lifts his head, and right away Steve backs away a little.

"It's okay," Tony says, as they both sit up. Steve's aware that he's sitting on Tony's thighs, and he doesn't want to look down. He's too afraid he'd see two hard teenage boys, in a position they really shouldn't be in. It's always Tony's damn fault.

He lets Tony kiss him, closing his eyes when their lips meet. They're almost soft like the rose, but a lot sturdier. He kisses Tony back, the whole time feeling confused and ashamed.

They pull in and out, both of them trying to dominate the kiss. It never gets too intense, but it still makes Steve feel dizzy and aroused. Tony slips his tongue in here and there, making Steve feels sparks of pleasure all over his body. He doesn't know how to properly French kiss, so all he does as an attempt to retaliate is nip Tony's lips, the whole time feeling like it's all a dream. He's kissing his friend. He's kissing Tony Stark. The most popular boy in school, ever since freshman year.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wonders if this is why Tony bothered talking to the skinny loser from freshman year. Why he bothered forcing himself into Steve's small group of friends at least twice a week. Why he bothered supporting him when he first wanted to try out for sports, when no one else believed in him. He wonders if this is why Tony started to talk to him less this year, their last year, when Steve suddenly grew, suddenly was more than just a loser, and suddenly had girls all over him.

Has Tony always liked him?

Tony moans, the sound alone almost enough to make Steve explode in his pants. The arousal he gets from the sound is intense, more than he anticipated, and he feels his dick twitch in his pants, eager.

Tony pulls Steve down with him, his lips still soft and distracting. Steve boxes him in, their legs moving on their own accord, until Steve is in between Tony's thighs; his legs wrapped tightly around Steve's waist. Unconsciously, Steve grinds, but the feeling of the pressure is a surprise to Steve, and he lets out a surprised noise.

Tony follows, thrusting up against Steve. His kisses get more demanding, his hands all over Steve's neck and hair.

"Steve," Tony rasps out, moaning. "Steve, Steve."

He's grinding wildly up against Steve, desperate for _something_. Steve doesn't know what, but he doesn't have the time, or the brain capacity really, to try and figure it out. He feels around Tony's body instead, shaking, but determined.

He lifts Tony's shirt, letting his blunt nails drag along the flanks of Tony's body. Tony whines at that, his back arching up against Steve.

Fuck, Steve's close. He can feel his orgasm coming, the pressure building.

They're left nose to nose, breathing hard, and Tony is reaching in between them, undoing his pants. Steve does the same, forcing himself to do it quickly. He's afraid they'd somehow stop, and maybe Tony is too, because he's back to distracting Steve with a deep kiss, pulling Steve's underwear down for him blindly.

He jacks Steve off for a couple seconds, and he pulls away for half a second to spit generously onto his hand, and then wraps it around Steve's member again, spreading his saliva down and around.

Steve grunts, thrusting into Tony's hand. He can feel his balls tighten, everything tense. Tony's tongue keeps his entranced, and then Tony is grabbing them both, their cocks sliding up against each other—and that's when Steve releases himself, crying helplessly against Tony's mouth, feeling, for the first time ever, completely spent.

Tony moans, his hand twisting and spreading Steve's cum over the both of them, his cock twitching from underneath Steve's.

"Fuck," Tony hisses, letting go of Steve to jack himself off.

Steve mouths along Tony's neck, his skin still hot and heart rate still up. He knows it'll be over soon, the moment Tony spills his load and his head finally clears. He takes what he can get, but he doesn't know if it's himself he's afraid of or Tony.

Tony's moans get higher, needier; he has his head tilted up, letting Steve take advantage of his bared skin. As he obviously gets closer and closer, Steve takes his chance, squeezing his eyes shut as he grabs Tony's cock, feeling it at least once.

Tony shivers at that, and then his cock jumps in Steve's hand, spilling all over his hand and their chests. He looks down at them, enthralled. When Tony shudders, Steve lets go, but only to feel around the puddle of cum Tony made on his stomach.

"Shit," Tony eventually mumbles, when Steve stops and settles himself next to him.

It's silent for another few long seconds, Steve not wanting to speak. He tries to ignore the fact that Tony's shoulder his touching his own. They're a complete mess, both mostly clothed except for re fact that their pants are undone and they're exposed to the world.

"I honestly didn't think you'd let it get that far," Tony says. Steve turns his head to glare.

"What, so it's my fault?"

"I'm not _blaming_ anyone," Tony says defensively. "I'm just saying I didn't think you had it in you."

If this is how Tony acts after sex, Steve has no idea why the girls are always coming back.

"Fuck you," Steve replies. "This is all your fault anyway."

"I told you," Tony says, sitting up. He lifts his underwear, covering himself. Steve does the same, the feeling of embarrassment coming back full force. "I'm not blaming anyone. We're still cool, right?"

"We're not _cool_ ," Steve replies, the reality of all this crashing down. He sits up too, rubbing his face. "God, Tony—I've never done this with anybody before. And I did it with _you_."

Tony stays silent, and suddenly Steve feels bad.

"No," he says, shaking his head. "That's not—I didn't mean it like that."

"Sure you didn't."

"No, really," Steve insists. He sits on his calves, facing Tony. "I'm sorry. I—I just...I don't want this to be something we're just gonna brush off."

"You don't?" Tony asks, looking at Steve sharply. He looks back down, his expression softening as he plays with his fingers.

"No. Do you?"

Tony sighs, looking at his ceiling.

"I don't want it to be a problem."

"It doesn't have to be," Steve replies. "But...it's all up to you at this point."

" _Me_?" Tony asks, his eyes snapping back to Steve. "What do you mean?"

"How you decide to fix this," Steve says, his heart racing. He's giving away too much, isn't he? What if Tony doesn't like him? What if he's tricking himself? Perhaps he's being too optimistic. He's always liked Tony, and Tony's always liked him, but when did it become past just friends? Maybe Steve doesn't actually like Tony like that.

No. That ones a lie. He's always liked Tony like that, he just never had the balls to admit it. Even now.

"Steve," Tony says, his voice nervous. He watches Steve carefully. "It doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to. I'm sorry."

"Do you?" Steve asks, feeling nervous himself. "Want it to mean something?"

"Don't do this to me right now," Tony mumbles.

"I'm serious."

Tony closes his eyes, shaking his head.

"This isn't—you aren't implying anything, are you?"

Steve stays silent for only a second. "And if I am?"

"Fuck Steve," Tony whines, and he climbs onto Steve, kissing his sweetly. "I've wanted you since freshman year."

"Me too," Steve mumbles against his lips, and he feels free, happy to admit it now. He kisses Tony back, hopeful for something good to come out of this. "Me too."

"Let's take a shower," Tony says, pulling away and dragging Steve off the bed. Steve accidentally steps on the rose, smiling to himself as Tony continues to ramble.

"And tonight, you're sleeping with me."

**Author's Note:**

> Idk hopefully THAT craziness was enjoyable? I need to work on my smut. 
> 
> Kudos and comments most definitely appreciated <3


End file.
